The Billion-Dollar Mistake

Just because I told my husband I was pregnant, his co-star called me a mistress.

She burst into my home with other celebrities and their dedicated fans.

A woman of low moral character trying to advance her position by having a child who doesn't deserve this fancy villa.

She's probably been kept by countless old men.

"Who knows whose baby that is? And she dares ruin the perfect love between our idol and his true partner."

They vandalized the villa while live-streaming the chaos.

Seeing my antiques and paintings in ruins, I coldly called my assistant.

"Release all the negative information we have on Michael Dawson. Also, report his tax evasion to the IRS."

"Make them pay full compensation for my losses, or they're going to jail."

"A kept woman who doesn't know her place."

I'd just scheduled a prenatal checkup with a private hospital when a loud commotion erupted at the neighborhood.

Standing on my balcony, I saw a crowd gathered at the entrance, waving flags and shouting slogans.

Puzzled, my friend sent a livestream link, saying, "Emma, this looks like your neighborhood."

I opened it and sure enough, it was the crowd I saw.

The banners read"Protect Love's Purity"and"Punish the Mistress."

The outraged crowd shouted into the camera, "Our idol is just a D-list star who depends solely on us fans for support!"

"Today, we're here to teach this shameless woman a lesson!"

Nowadays, fans can be quite extreme, willing to do anything for their idols.

I had never paid much attention to the drama in the entertainment industry and was about to close the livestream when a familiar face appeared.

My husband's on-screen partner, Rachel Harper.

My husband was a D-list actor, barely noticed, until I funded his career.

He finally started to gain popularity, largely due to his on-screen chemistry with Rachel.

Although this on-screen couple was widely shipped, he swore that it was just for his acting career and promised that he had no real relationships with anyone in the industry.

He'd invite me to sets to watch, stressing those sweet moments were staged.

So, despite their passionate online fans, I never felt worried.

Rachel, wearing sunglasses, stayed silent, but the livestream's comment section exploded.

"I admire this star for standing up for herself. A true role model for women."

"Make the mistress pay, or society's doomed."

Turning a simple matter into a moral crusadeI shook my head.

After closing the livestream, my friend sent a long voice message."I remember your husband worked with her. Any gossip?Ask him and spill!"

"You're so inquisitive, you should have been a tabloid reporter. Youd make a fortune."

As I spoke, the doorbell rang.

I stopped the housekeeper, Mrs.Clark, who was about to cut fruit, and answered the door myself.

The door opened, and someone shoved me to stumble.

Before I could regain my balance, a mob poured in.

Cameras swarmed around me, lenses almost pressing against my face.

"This is the slut who betrayed our Rachel!"

"Look at hershe's clearly a homewrecker.This house? Probably a gift from some sugar daddy!"

I was stunned by the insults. Were these the livestream people? Why were they in my home?

I stepped forward to question them, but a fan grabbed my hair, forced my face toward a camera, and then slapped me hard.

"Today, we're here to deliver justice and teach this wretch a lesson for wrecking the beautiful love between our idol and his co-star."

The crowd, inside and out, jeered at me.

The noise drew neighbors, who watched and whispered from afar.

Fans pulled rotten eggs from their bags, hurling them at me to show their hatred.

Swallowing my fury, I turned to Rachel, who had stayed silent, and said, "You've got it wrong. I don't know your husband. Leave my house now, or I'm calling the police."

Instead of showing fear, Rachel removed her sunglasses, putting on a dramatic crying performance for the cameras.

"Everyone knows I'm a nobody in this industry, powerless, at others' mercy."

"I can put up with that, but I simply can't stand someone stealing my husband."

"This woman didn't just sleep with himshe's pregnant with his child! She's been pressuring me to leave Michael Dawson!"

She turned, giving me a pitiful look, then dropped to her knees with a loud thud, tears streaming.

"If you let my husband go, I'll give you anything."

Her performance left me speechless. Fans tossed printed chat logs at me.

"No excuses! Here's proof of your filth."

I looked closely at the printed pagesthey were my intimate chats with Michael.

Some were flirty, while others showed me asking him to choose a maternity center.

My face darkened as I flipped through them. A thunderclap seemed to explode in my head, leaving me stunned.

It hit meMichael had been keeping a mistress behind my back.

Since we got together, he'd been attentive, obedient, treating my words like gospel.

Yet he'd been deceiving me right under my nose!

Fury at being deceived surged. I shredded the chats, glaring coldly at Rachel. "If you want your husband, talk to him, not me."

"Ask him what we are. See if he dares admit it."

Rachel, as if she'd been slapped, staggered back. "How can you act so self - righteous?"

"You won't give Michael back to me."

She collapsed into a fan's arms, sobbing.

Fans, enraged at her humiliation, shouted that I needed to be taught a lesson.

Rachel, crying, held back those eager to hit me, shaking her head. "She's pregnant. We can't hurt Michael's child."

I watched her play the victim, thinking she must have studied Sun Tzus The Art of War instead of acting scripts.

Too bad for her, she picked the wrong target.

I gave Mrs.Clark a signal, then calmly told Rachel, "I'm warning youleave now, or I'm calling the police."

Rachel shrieked, "Mistresses are this bold now? Call the cops! Lets see who they side withthe homewrecker or the wife!"

Her words like a battle cry. The furious fans, already at their limit, held her tightly and began trashing my home.

They grabbed my million-dollar rare book, ripping it."A mistress who reads books? Didn't books teach you not to steal others men?"

"Just look at hershe definitely needs a lesson!"

The ringleaders stirred up the crowd.

"Addicted to being a whore? If you're desperate, find a dog!"

"Sisters, show this slut who's the boss."

The mob went completely berserk, smashing everything in my home.

They scrawled insults on the walls with paint, smashed antiques from my shelves, and stormed my closet, shredding designer clothes.

"A slut doesn't deserve clothes!"

"She should serve men naked."

Soon, the villa was in ruins, yet they acted like righteous avengers.

Rachel smirked smugly, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Let's see if you dare steal my husband again."

I remained silent, while Mrs. Clark's frowned deeply. "Ms. Harper, you know exactly how valuable all these things are! Do you really think you can cover the costs?"

Her words made the fans pause for a moment, and they looked uncertainly at Rachel.

Rachel scoffed, "It's all Michael's stuff. Why worry?"

The fans, now reassured, dismissed Mrs. Clark's warning as nothing more than a bluff, and then resumed their rampage.

Mrs. Clark grabbed my hand, worried.I shook my head, calming her.

With this chaos, even if we didn't call the police, security would.

The house was full of camerasnone of them would escape.

Seeing that I was unfazed and not trying to stop them, they smashed things even harder.

I snorted. Lets see if youre still laughing when the bill arrives.

They found a large box in my study's alcove.

Inside laid my cherished jewelry.

The glittering diamonds stunned them. Rachel's eyes burned with greed and jealousy.

She grabbed a priceless necklace, snarling, "You sure spent his money freely."

I almost laughed out loud. Michael was nothing but a kept man with no money of his own. Those tailored suits and luxury goods he hadI was the one who bought them. Without my investment, he'd have vanished from the industry.

His "wealthy heir" persona only fooled these idiots.

Rachel rummaged through the box and pulled out an oil painting.

My face darkened. "Don't touch that!"

My tension delighted her. Unrolling the painting, she saw my portrait and sneered, "So vain, keeping your own picture."

"But this face doesn't look natural at all. Did you use my husband's money to get plastic surgery?"

She told the fans, "Destroy everything. I've got your back."

I lunged forward to grab the painting, but she quickly dodged away.

My gaze turned icy. "Give it back, and I'll let everything else slide."

It was the last painting my brother made for me before he diedhis final gift.

I couldn't let them ruin it.

Rachel laughed as if it were the worlds best joke. "You love this?" She paused. "Then I'll tear it up."

At Rachel's command, fans pounced like rabid dogs, pinning my arms.

The housekeeper tried to shield me but was dragged aside.

Rachel, with a cold, unhurried smile, tore the painting to shreds right before my very eyes, then threw the pieces at me, hitting my head.

My eyes blazed with fury, heart aching beyond words.

Rachel, thrilled, grabbed my chin."Look, the shameless mistress can cry!"

Fans roared with laughter.

Tears blurred my vision as I struggled to choke back my sobs. Then, in a cold, steady voice, I said, "You'll regret this."

"Threatening us at death's door?Sisters, strip her and throw her on the street."

"Let everyone see how this slut seduces men."

They tore at my clothes.I fought, but it fueled their cruelty.

As they nearly stripped me, heavy footsteps sounded outside, followed by a shout, "Police!Freeze!"

I looked up, seeing officers rush in.They subdued the rowdy fans, the lead officer pinning Rachel to the ground.

The officers subdued the rowdy fans, and the once - arrogant fans panicked.

Only Rachel, still struggling, shrieked, "Officers!We're catching a mistress!"

"Don't you know me?I'm Rachel Harper!"

The officer didn't glance at her."I don't care who you are.Cuff them."

"We're livestreaming a mistress takedown!You're siding with her?Aren't you afraid of backlash?"

Some defiant fans joined her, shouting, "Yeah!Cops protecting a mistress?Where's justice?"

Whether they were foolish or truly believed in their cause, they rallied together, acting as if they were warriors fighting for truth.

The officer frowned, snapping, "Take it up at the station!"

I wiped my tears, changed into clean clothes, and approached the officer."These people trespassed and destroyed property worth billions."

"You can have experts appraise it.I just want full compensation."

The officer nodded, leaving some to photograph the scene, then took us to the station.

Rachel, in the interrogation room, still acted like a haughty star, sneering at me."That villa's stuff is my husband's.I'm just trashing my own home.Police care about that?"

"Let me go, or I'll have my husband talk to your boss.See how you handle that."

The officer laughed, barely hiding a smirk."You say it's your husband's house. Had proof?"

Rachel glared."Bring him here."

"I bet some people will cry soon.A mistress doing shady things and acting boldI've never seen it."

She pulled out her phone, dialed the number, and taunted me."When Michael arrives, you'll see how pathetic you are."